Page 80 of Still Bruised
No fucking way.
15
A week later…
Foster checked his email, hoping for a bite from one of the many,manyplaces he’d sent resumes to but found nothing. His ego was really taking a beating. The jobs were there, but he wasn’t getting many nibbles. He’d assumed it was his connection to his ex-father-in-law, but maybe it was more to it than that. Maybe he didn’t have the right set of skills employers were looking for. What that was, he wasn’t sure. He’d only had the one job and there, he’d been told he did a great job.
Nepotism might’ve hidden his flaws. Maybe he should reach out to an old coworker, one who no longer worked for Ashley’s dad, and see if there were any insights he could get. If he was lacking something, he needed to know.
After sending a couple of emails, he scoured several job sites, searching for anything that looked anywhere remotely near his wheelhouse. He’d already applied to all of the local ones hefound. Apparently, it was time to move outside New York and New Jersey. He stumbled over a few in Boston that looked interesting and sent his resume to those.
Boston wasn’t too far away.
It’s too far away from Jude.
Foster shook his head. He couldn’t factor Jude into any long-term decisions. They had an expiration date—one of Jude’s choosing.
But there were other obvious reasons to stay. Seeing how his parents had slowed down for one. He’d flown in right after the stroke and spent weeks helping with his dad’s recovery and rehab—and according to the doctors, everything had looked great for a full recovery. But he could only stay for so long. His father-in-law had been generous, allowing him to work virtually part-time, but as the weeks progressed, that generosity dried up. Ashley had started whining, too, but likely because her father wasn’t pleased and let her know it.
Once Foster had set up a home health nurse to stop in daily, the physical therapy appointments were set, and his parents had gotten into something of a regular routine, he’d returned to California, confident they had a plan well in hand.
He’d had regular weekly Zoom calls with them to ensure his dad’s progress was moving forward. Both parents had told him how well his dad was doing and that the doctors said he would be back to full steam in no time. They’d also told him to end the nursing service because they didn’t need it anymore.
Only, his dad wasn’t back to full steam or anywhere close, and he’d learned that his parents had asked for him to endthe nursing service because they didn’t want him spending his money covering what insurance and Medicare didn’t.
Perhaps his divorce had been a blessing in more ways than one. Now that he was home, he could keep an eye on things. Thanks to being unemployed, he ran errands for his mother and finished his dad’s honey-do-list around the house. He’d gotten them both out walking every day and while it had taken weeks, his dad was comfortably up to a mile and sometimes more. The changes in their strength were clearly visible. Not just his dad, but his mom, too.
If Foster was forced to move to Boston—or further—he feared they might not continue without him urging them on. Before the stroke, his parents had been a fairly active couple nearing their seventies, preparing to travel even more once his dad fully retired from the university. When he’d returned he’d found that they stuck close to home, only leaving the house when they absolutely needed to. He realized their lives might never return to normal, but it felt like they’d given up trying to get any closer.
Maybe it’s time to consider changing careers. Icouldgo back to college, I suppose. I’ve got enough in savings to make that happen.
His cell vibrated on the desk. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered, hoping it wasn’t one of the many scam calls he got in a week.
“Hello?”
“Am I speaking to Foster Price?”
The voice sounded familiar. Foster relaxed a bit. “Yes, it is.”
“How are you doing today, Foster? This is Bash Spears.”
Bash Spears? Foster smiled to himself, not wanting to get too hopeful. Bash was one of the owners of a company he’dreallywanted to work for—but also the man who’d mentioned he’d known Ashley’s father very well. “I’m doing great, and you?”
“Can’t complain,” Bash said. “I want to start out by apologizing for taking so long to call you. I’m afraid life interrupted. I’d planned to offer you the position we discussed a few weeks ago—but fear you might’ve taken something else considering how long it’s been.”
Foster rose from his chair, eyes wide. He needed to answer carefully, without making it obvious that he appeared unloved and unwanted in the financial world. “I’d be interested to hear your offer.”
“So youhavefound another position?”
Foster hesitated for a moment before choosing the truthful path. “No. I haven’t.”
“I suppose we can thank your father-in-law for that.”
Foster frowned. “Thank him for…?” He didn’t want to come out and ask what the man had insinuated from the comment. He’d much rather Bash speak plainly.
“I think we both likely suspect he’s put out the word you’re not to be hired. There’s no way anyone with your track record should still be looking for a job otherwise.”
Foster sighed.
